Black Sand
by BelovedShadow
Summary: Sasuke wasn't looking for love. Power, happiness,and accomplishment; but never love. Having any feelings whatsoever for Suna's Kazekage wasn't something that he could afford, but his body kept forgetting that... SasukeXGaara YAOI!
1. Izuna's Plan

**Disclaimer: C'mon. You don't REALLY think I own Naruto, do you? It's called FAN FICTION dot net. That sort of implies we DON'T own this stuff… you know what! Fuck it! This is my last disclaimer! I refuse to write any more of them, they're absurd and redundant! **

**Warning: There will be some yaoi / boyxboy / slash! / smut / XXX stuff in this. **

**A/N: As far as first chapters go, this is certainly not one of my best ones, but I think that as far as the fanfic as a WHOLE goes – it will be. **

**I feel like I should make a speech about how there isn't enough Sasuke X Gaara out there, but I don't really read this pairing either, so I truly have zero room to complain. In truth, if this plotline would have worked for another pairing, I'd STILL have no love for this one. *shrug* **

**Enjoy! **

"Uchiha. Senju. Hyuuga. Kaguya. Subaku."

Sasuke stared evenly at the wall behind the man speaking to him. "The five most powerful families in the ninja world. What of it?"

"Don't try to be wiser than you _are, _Sasuke-Kun. Can you even tell me why I put them in that order?"

Sasuke took a calming breath, willing himself not to get annoyed. "Of course, sir. That is the order in which those clans came to power. Isn't it? First us, then the Senju, then the Hyuuga, and on from there."

The young Uchiha received nothing more than an approving nod.

"The Senju have won Konoha. Now it's all they have. No money. No honor. Just a village and it's ungrateful villagers. Hinata Hyuuga hasn't the strength to bring a child to term. Hizashi's son spreads his legs like a woman. Hanabi will grow power driven. She will marry a Hyuuga. Inbreeding will end them. The Kaguya buried themselves alive. Sunagakure fears the Subakus. As soon as the last one dies, their line will also end."

"So? What's that have to do with me? The Uchiha name will always be a strong one."

"No, you idiot. Your _brother_ will always be strong. He will live by the blade. He will die of old age. He will have a perfect little son named after your grandfather, and the line will continue – but _you _are not your brother. What will you ever do for the clan? Nothing. What will you accomplish? Nothing. Who will you be to this world? No one. What will they say of you when you die? That the great Itachi Uchiha had a little brother or sister, they can't quite remember which. I understand that the name Uchiha will live on, but what of the name _Sasuke_? Will your given name be uttered by anyone out of our time? So far, no."

Sasuke was seriously getting sick of this conversation. He hated talking to his father's advisors, no matter how wise they may be. He was already very well aware that in his eighteen years of life he hadn't done as much as his brother's first _eight. _That didn't matter, though. He was twenty times more cunning than Itachi, and a hundred times more power hungry – these two things alone would ensure that he reached a position of authority one day.

"I'm not in the mood for one of your crazy plans. I'll take over the police force when my father dies. Itachi adores me, he won't deny me that right. He has no _desire _to be heir."

"No, but he _is _the heir. Shut your mouth and listen. Konoha's ninja force has no use for you. I'm not trying to tell you how to be the best Senju dog pissing on a fire hydrant. I'm trying to _tell _you, how to take over three hidden villages at once without war."

"Three? If it's not illegal it's impossible."

"Do you know why I sit at your father's right hand instead of my brother, Sasuke? He's older, and much more powerful – wouldn't you say?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Because Madara's too busy being a psychopathic freak?"

"No. Because I was able to _convince your father_ that Madara's a psychopathic freak. Because I was able to convince _Madara _that he himself was a psychopathic freak. I have never met a man more sane and kind-hearted than my brother. I have been blessed with a soul that knows no morality and a body that knows no mortality. Through your father, I am able to control this entire sick little village, and I will pass this skill to you, but that's still only one out of the three I promised."

Sasuke stared at Izuna in disbelief. That wasn't really possible was it? True, on the rare occasions that he did venture out to the more distant areas of the complex and happen to run into Madara he'd never seen anything out of the ordinary… but how could you convince a sane person that they were insane?

"I know what you're thinking Sasuke. I assure you, making a well-minded person think themselves to be crazy is a lot easier than making a crazy person look normal. Now, about these villages… Otogakure will be easy for you to acquire. They live like savages worshipping a false god. Kill Orochimaru and they'll make _you _that false god. "

"And the last?"

"Suna."

"That's impossible. We're their allies. If I attack Suna it'll start a war."

Izuna chuckled lightly to himself, as if Sasuke was a child who'd stated the obvious in an adorable way. "Sasuke, I don't mean you to attack Sunagakure. I'm going to make you the next kazekage."

"They won't let a foreigner lead the village."

"They will. Trust me."

Sasuke thought that over for a while. Izuna Uchiha was probably the least trustworthy person he knew. However, the reasons that the man was considered such a little snake were all based on qualities that Sasuke also possessed. Avarice, cunning, and a general detachment towards the concept of friendship were only a few.

He wanted to be more important than his brother. He wanted to have more power than the Hokage. He wanted to do it in peace, though – and this was probably the only way to do that. Of course, there would be something in it for Izuna as well. That much was certain. Izuna was the type to turn his back with ease on anyone who wasn't beneficial to his existence and contention.

The only part that was unnerving was being the Kazekage. There had to be something askew there. The kazekage was young and powerful. It was highly unlikely that he'd die of a natural cause, so clearly Izuna had to have some strange and effective way to deal with him as well.

Sasuke was trying to debate internally, but he knew that his choice had already been made.

"Fine. Tell me your plan."

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter was so short. I don't even really understand what made me think up this fanfic, but I really like my outline for it, so I hope that you guys enjoyed reading it. **

**If you have a little time, please use it to drop me a review! **

**I love all of my readers! **

**-Beloved**


	2. Meeting The Bride

**A/N: Trying to get back into this fic! **

When Sasuke arrived in Sunagakure his first impression was definitely not a good one. He understood why it was called the Sand Village. His sandal-clad feet brushed up against the hot golden terrain with every step, and he almost wondered for a moment if it was possible to get a painful burn from sand. He supposed it was, and hoped he wouldn't suffer something so unfortunate.

The golden brown tinge of sand was a pretty color in most places, perhaps – but not here. This was a place that relied on the sand for everything, because they had no soil, and had to dig for their water, though they tried to collect what little they could in large cisterns that were above every building. The architecture itself was made of the sand as well. Barely visible masses of sand-brick rose so slightly that one would think you could bump your head on the way into one of the squat little houses.

His travel guide, a young man around his age named Shikamaru, explained that in the residential parts of the city, the houses consisted mostly of very deeply dug basements. Because of the hot air, when a home needed more than one floor, they went down instead of up, using the coolness of the earth to aid them in their comfort. In the more commercial areas of the village, businesses had air conditioning, and did not fear the hot sun or sandy winds. They built tall, imposing towers that stared down boastfully at the rest of the village, and if Sasuke squinted his eyes just so, he could make out the top of the tallest one, though he didn't hold his gaze for long. The sky was much too bright to look at anything but your own shadow.

Shikamaru guided him easily through the closely-packed homes and shops, leading to one of the towers, if Sasuke guessed correctly. He supposed Shikamaru was an okay guide. He'd been back and forth between Sasuke's home village, Konoha, and this hell-hole many times before. He certainly looked trustworthy enough, with his wild spiky hair piled atop his head, and a lazy grin on his face. If Sasuke had known him in school, he might have teased him for looking like some sort of friendly pineapple.

Sasuke was willing to bet that a fruit as moist and sweet as that would be terrified to grow in a place like this – but he wasn't here for pineapple head Shikamaru. He had his own business to attend to, and he wouldn't disappoint his family by failing.

When they arrived at their location (one of the towers, as Sasuke had rightfully guessed,) Sasuke found that although these wealthy businessmen flaunted their high buildings and cool air, they didn't have an elevator. He thanked Shikamaru for showing him the way here, and got started up on several seemingly-endless flights of stairs.

At the top, there was a small table that held a pitcher of ice water and a stack of plastic cups. Sasuke was grateful for the drink, but grimaced as he sipped at it. Even the water here bore the salty sting of sand. He knocked politely on the door, and it swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Sasuke knew this not to be the case, there was probably someone holding it open, but he didn't care.

He saw her.

He gulped, nervously, and tried to smile. Temari Subaku. His bride to be. When Izuna had explained to him that marrying Temari was imperative in his quest to become Kazekage he'd been let down to say the very least. He didn't mind arranged marriage so much, per say, but she was known to be quite the horror.

She looked dirty to him. Her skin in all of the pictures was always pale white, but in truth it was burned and scaly on her nose, from too much time in the sun. She didn't tan evenly, and had patches of darkness that refused to cover any great portion of her body in the way that they should have. A cream forearm here, a mocha colored elbow there, a reddened shoulder-blade, made visible by the way that her shirt fell off a little on one side. Her hair looked dirty, and she had a boyish jaw, that was set out in a defiant way that suggested she was even less enthusiastic about their arranged union than he was.

The curve of her breasts was barely apparent in the baggy clothes, and she was wearing shorts that were indecently short. He shouldn't have been allowed to see so much of her before their wedding night, but it didn't matter. He had no interest in her knobbly knees, or too-pale thighs. His eyes roamed back up, and took in her chapped lips, that remained dry looking, even as she darted out her tongue to nervously lick them. Sasuke decided that he would never touch those lips, and made a mental note to remember the first time he lied with her that kissing was a no-no. Hopefully she didn't expect anything but children to come of their someday necessary physical contact, because he refused to offer actual pleasure to such a wretched creature as she.

She would not even present herself correctly for her husband-to-be. She could find joy of the flesh elsewhere, then. At least it might give him an excuse to divorce her after she had birthed the heir his family expected him to produce.

Sasuke expertly hid his disgust behind what he hoped was a genuine looking smile. She scoffed at him and turned away. Fine. They didn't have to like each other. That wasn't what marriage was about.

"Temari-Chan, I hope I'm not too early." He said, looking pointedly at her exposed thighs and waiting for her to explain herself.

In the corner, someone laughed, and Sasuke turned around sharply, to see the man who must have opened the door. He smiled softly. Gaara Subaku, reigning Kazekage of Sunagakure, was the perfect opposite of his sister. His skin was tanned perfectly, eyes dark and knowing, hair such a violent red that it looked like spun roses. _Or blood, _Sasuke's mind provided teasingly. He almost chuckled to himself. It seemed a sin to give such an ugly duckling the perfect brother, but perhaps Temari's ugliness was something deliberate on her part, in an attempt to destroy his interest in her.

"Please forgive my sister, Uchiha-San. She has been so looking forward to your arrival that she's forgotten her manners. Would you like something to drink?"

Sasuke accepted the drink and allowed himself to be seated on a plush couch that was, thankfully, a dark shade of green. He wondered if maybe this couch was the only thing in this whole damned village that was green. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"You should phone your uncle, and let him know that you've gotten here safely." Gaara suggested, taking a sip of some carbonated water, that he had poured a hint of cactus juice into.

Sasuke shook his head. "I arrived with a guide from my village, Shikamaru Nara. He'll take care of all of that."

Temari's eyes darted up at Shikamaru's name, and Sasuke's mind was suddenly full of the thought that some way, somehow, she had known him once. Lovely. Her lack of purity was definitely enough to call off this marriage, but no – Sasuke mentally scolded himself. He _needed _this marriage. It didn't matter whether she'd already been touched or not. She hadn't mothered any bastards, and as far as he knew she was capable of bearing _his _children, which was what he needed her for.

"Will I meet your other brother today, Temari-Chan? I thought there were two."

She didn't even waste the effort of a fake smile. "There are, yes – and no, you won't."

Gaara frowned, and explained further. "Our brother Kankuro is busy today down at one of the shops in our lower districts. He's gotten an apprenticeship with Sasori of the Red Sand, you know. We expect much of him."

Another polite smile danced across Sasuke's lips, because he was now expected to be happy about the accomplishments of a man he didn't know. As they continued in their small talk, he kept that smile plastered firmly onto his face, and by the time he got to bed that night, his jaw was sore from it.

Sasuke rubbed at his aching cheeks and rolled slightly to his left against his bedroll. He wanted to be home, with his stern father and his kind eyed mother. He even missed the perfectly distanced relationship that he'd maintained with his elder brother. Four days on the road, and it all came down to this. Him, laying here on this golden sandy floor, looking up at a golden sandy ceiling, and glancing over at a low window, only to see the same golden sandy sustenance spreading out farther than his eyes could show him.

He hated that color. He hated the sand. He hated Temari.

He doubted that he'd find something to like (much less _love_) during his next few weeks of staying here, but for now, he'd be perfectly glad to find something he didn't _hate._

He sighed, turning over again, though he was decidedly uncomfortable with the blankets of his bedroll up against the hard hot sand rather than his usual polished wooden floor. He made himself close his eyes and ignore the sand, and maybe later he'd ask them to lay tatami mats down in his room.

In the morning, he'd write a very lonely and pitiful letter to his mother – but for now, Sasuke would sleep.

**A/N: Let me know if you guys think this story would be better off discontinued rather than me trying to salvage it after three years of never even writing a second chapter. For now, if it's okay with you guys, I'd like to get back in touch with what inspired me to write it and see where it takes me. **

**Love you all for reading! Big thanks to any who have reviewed so far or will review this chapter! **

**-Beloved**


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